


For everything a reason.

by fuchsverse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Nogitsune, Pack Feels, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Stydia, major character death thing?, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28858293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuchsverse/pseuds/fuchsverse
Summary: At some times death is like a lump of sugar... sweet, tempting and yet so immensely repulsive. [sterek]
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 8





	For everything a reason.

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [For everything a reason.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631785) by [fuchsverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuchsverse/pseuds/fuchsverse). 



> [written in 2014]
> 
> sterek and God, please don't ask me how this came about. I really don't know. It just happened and I really couldn't help it. But many people know anyway that little nogi is not good at writing pink-plush-over-tha-rainbow. Lots of love and fun. The quote before the chapter is from Weena Morloch and the quote at the end is from Carina Round.

#### For everything a reason.

„The feeling that your head is going to explode.  
The feeling that your spinal cord is being pressed into your brain.  
The feeling that your brain is shrivelled up like baked fruit.  
The feeling that you’re being continuously and imperceptibly electrified.“

Stiles turned around, staring blankly at the girl he had fancied for years. The creature who had always seemed like an elf to him. So lovely, so tender and fragile. But today he only had eyes for the shadows under her eyes, for the deep wrinkles that had formed like craters on her forehead. He didn’t know how long she had been standing there, almost seeming to pierce him with her gaze. Or maybe Stiles just didn’t care at that moment. No matter what she thought she would tell Scott later. The words _„He’s still not better.“_ would definitely play a part in his best friends‘ conversation, they certainly always did. After Allison’s death and the expulsion of the Nogitsune, young Stilinski had fallen silent, withdrawn into himself. Not even eating for the first few days, at one point he could no longer bear the distraught look on his father’s face. So Stiles had started crawling out of bed at mealtimes, stumbling down the stairs more than actually walking. He found it difficult to keep his balance, always having to hold on to something. The wall, or even the banister, he was afraid to just topple over just standing in the middle of the room.

And now someone was in his room again, paying him an unwanted visit. Every day they came, always in turn and always at the same time. Yesterday it was Scott, today the strawberry blonde beauty and tomorrow Scott again. Day in, day out. They didn’t seem to care that he didn’t talk to them, that he lay in his bed, just staring at the wall. Sometimes he returned their stares, tried to withstand them and not choke on the sickening worry. They made him sick, almost drove him insane. Why didn’t he just tell them he didn’t want them to keep coming? Stiles didn’t know, tried to talk himself out of the fact that he needed their visits. That he needed these people to look after him, to care for him lovingly. Sighing softly, Lydia averted her eyes, stepped to the window, which was open a crack, and shivered. It had always been cold in the Stilinski’s room since that incident, but he didn’t allow anyone to close the window either. It was continuously open, driving a bit of the cold, and with it death, into the sweet home of the little family. In the beginning, his visitors and his father had closed it regularly, but after it was opened again and again, they had eventually given up on it. Reluctantly, they let Stiles have his way, only shaking their heads at it.

Only when the sun was already setting did he hear the rustle of Lydia’s jacket as she pulled it on and took one last look at her best friend. „See you, Stiles. If you... if you need anything, call me. Write to me. Anything at all. Please...“ her last words were just a whisper, almost too quiet to hear properly. But Stiles heard them, each syllable like a stab straight into his heart. She did not come to him, no, there was no physical contact, because the boy did not allow this gesture of love either. Since it had started, people were not allowed to touch him, at most to put their hand on the bedspread for a few seconds. How he would have liked to stop the girl as she stepped out of his room, closing the door quietly behind her. He wanted to cry, wanted to raise his voice and shout after her that she should stay. Lydia should stay and so should Scott. They should all stay. But he didn’t open his mouth, didn’t raise his voice, didn’t do anything else that would have attracted attention. He wasn’t ready yet, just couldn’t admit that things weren’t getting better. Stiles was unable to show the others how much it hurt. How badly the fire was burning under his skin, eating through him from the inside out. How it charred his lungs, cracked his bones. Half-heartedly, the teenager wrapped his arms around his slender torso, had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. Shouldn’t things have gotten better with the trickster’s death? Shouldn’t he have recovered slowly? But why did his body seem to be disintegrating more and more? Why were the craters under his eyes getting darker and why couldn’t he stop shaking? _Stiles had the feeling he was dying._

It was the slight gust of wind that made the Stilinski turn towards the window, even though he already knew what to expect. Every movement hurt, bringing him a little closer to the brink of unconsciousness. His left hand already felt numb, while every blink felt like he was chopping off a finger. „Didn’t I tell you not to come anymore?“ the voice raspy, hardly comparable to before. Stiles stared at the dark figure who half-closed the window again and then turned to face him, taking off his leather jacket at the same moment. Derek never answered him, coming and going as he pleased. Only for him did the boy leave the window open, even if he denied it was so. They knew better, were aware that he just couldn’t express it. _Pain. Loneliness. Mortal fear._ Quietly, the werewolf stepped up to the small desk, placed his jacket over the back of Stiles‘ chair, then moved slowly towards the bed.  
„Get away...“ the boy muttered, pulling the covers higher and seeming to want to hide from the older man, „...don’t touch me.“ The words were desperate, knowing he would feel better after a touch. Knew that Derek could take away some of the pain, maybe even wanted to. But did Stiles want that? _Of course he did._ But never would he tell the other, beg for his help. He had already caused enough trouble for his friends, didn’t want to be the cripple of the pack now. It was because he was weak that all this had happened. If Stiles had closed the door in his head then, it would probably never have come to this and Allison would still be alive too. Everything would be as it always was.  
The Stilinski was slightly startled when the duvet was snatched from him a little too roughly and only lowered back down on the boy after another person had bedded down next to him. Again tears came to his eyes and the fact that Derek now also wrapped both arms around him did not make this circumstance any better. „Don’t...“ but by then he felt the pain lessen, while Stiles didn’t even dare to lift his eyes. He knew what the other’s face looked like. Tense, lips pressed together into a thin line. It hurt so much. _Infinitely._ And he knew that Derek was burning as much as he was at that moment, that that man was now on fire inside too. _Stupid wolf._

„Derek... I’m dying...“, all at once it burst out of him like from a volcano. Tears welled up from reddened eyes and Stiles could no longer hold back a girlish sob. His limbs ached and like his left hand, the rest of his arm was slowly going numb. For the umpteenth time he got no answer, only pressed closer to the Hale’s warm body. Derek didn’t have to say anything, perhaps couldn’t at that moment. Never a man of big words, he didn’t want to today either. He would have liked to reassure the boy in his arms, to tell him that everything would be all right. But nothing like that would happen and they all knew it. Lydia, who hadn’t been able to sleep for what felt like an eternity, who was haunted by the worst visions even during the day. Derek and Scott, who could smell death on Stiles long ago. Sheriff Stilinski, whom they had told. The Nogitsune had destroyed the boy, driven Stiles to ruin even after his destruction. They had lost, had played from the beginning a game they could never win.  
Silently, the werewolf lingered beside the person who was more important to him than anything else in the world, trying to take as much pain as he could. It would do no good, the boy would still die. But wasn’t it legitimate to want to make him as comfortable as possible? After all, it was the only thing he could do. _Self-hatred._

„I know...“, powerless words leaving the quivering lips of an otherwise cool man. Whether Stiles had heard them yet, he did not know.

„So they say lord for everything a reason ... for every ending a new beginning.“

fin.


End file.
